


Rainy Daze

by Imaginary Charlotte (KenaydianMarchioness)



Category: Unfulfilled - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KenaydianMarchioness/pseuds/Imaginary%20Charlotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A more interesting alternative to locking this ship in a closet.  Up next, less talk, more action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Daze

The rain had been threatening all day, but no one cared. The late July heat had been unbearable for the last week, and it was a welcome escape to be in this mountain park, under a sky full of cooling clouds. It was the annual Thurston & Thurston retreat and barbeque, and as usual the company had rented the Cambridge lodge and the parks and campgrounds surrounding it.  
  
Megan had been running a team building activity in the lodge all morning, but now the first rotations were over, and she had half an hour to break before lunch. She’d been admiring the view of the park afforded by the lodge’s picture windows for the last few hours, and decided a quick walk round the lawn was just what she needed.  
  
Leaving the lodge she passed the picnic pavilions and walked along the south end of the lawn. Not far from the edge of the lawn the mountainside dropped away, revealing a stunning view all the way down to the valley’s cities. Megan wasn’t the only one who had decided on a stroll, she passed many of her coworkers and their families also admiring the view, but she didn’t stop to chat. Continuing her trek, Megan turned and followed the slope of the tree line down the east side of the lawn. There were fewer people here- from this lowest corner of the park you could only see the tips of the lodge roof, and the trees blocked the canyon’s best views. Finding herself alone, Megan stopped to stretch out on the grass and enjoy the cool breeze and the mountain quiet.  
  
That was when the rain started. This was no trickling shower, but an instant downpour. By the time Megan stood up her light summer blouse had been soaked through. Her sandaled feet slipped across the wet grass and instant mud, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it back up the hill to the lodge. Scanning for other options she spotted a thick willow tree in the very corner of the park she headed toward it. A red flag went off in her brain, but she reasoned it away- she hadn’t seen any lightning yet, and there were many trees around taller than the willow. Megan pulled apart the weeping branches and rushed inside.  
  
The tree blocked most of the deluge, only a few sprinkles trickled through the leaves, and only the most persistent winds slipped their way beneath the branches. Megan decided she would be as comfortable here as anywhere else she could have run, and having taken stock of her surroundings turned to examine herself. Her sandals were muddy. She kicked them off and wiped her feet on the grass. Her jeans had been soaked through, and clung uncomfortably to her legs. Her blouse was drenched, the water weight stretching the neckline and making the light knit fabric cling to her curves like it had been painted on. A rustling noise behind her, over the noise of the storm, turned her attention. Someone else was pushing into her hiding place.  
  
“Matthew!” Megan was surprised to see him. She hadn’t noticed him nearby before the storm started, and she nearly always noticed him. Matthew was just as drenched as she; drips were falling from the collar of his polo shirt. His jeans were splashed with mud, and under one arm he carried a dripping picnic blanket.  
  
They chatted briefly about how the storm had started so suddenly, and the retreat up to that point, but soon fell into silence. Their friendship had been long established, their mutual connection ran deep, but they never seemed to have much to say to one another. The storm raged on, the winds growing in intensity, but their little shelter was quiet. They settled down at the base of the tree trunk where the ground was driest to wait it out.  
  
It felt strange to be touching Matthew. They touched often, when dancing, but rarely outside of that context. Now here Megan was, sitting next to him close enough that their sides were touching, wrapped beneath his blanket. The rain hadn’t soaked all of the way through the folds, so it was the driest cover they had. They chatted quietly, small talk and shared memories. Megan shivered violently, and Matthew turned to look down at her. “Your lips are turning blue; we need to get you warmer.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, then started purposefully stroking his arms up and down her back.  
  
Megan snuggled into her chest, and wrapped her arms around him in turn. This was warmer, but only just. Turning her head, she got a face full of buttons. She sighed, then shivered again. “This would work better if we didn’t have any clothes on.” Matthew’s chest stiffened, and his hands paused. Megan backpedaled, trying to get him to relax again. “I just meant, sharing body heat, …hypothermia.” She finished lamely. “I-I’m sure we’re not that cold.” Another shiver wracked her body, belying her words. Megan turned her face into his chest and stopped talking.  
  
Matthew resumed stroking her back, trying to warm her. “That is what you do for hypothermia.” He acknowledged. A few minutes passed in silence, the wind still howling just beyond them. Megan shivered less violently, but did not stop altogether; Matthew began to shiver, too. “We do have a blanket.” He started.  
  
Megan pulled back and looked at him, waiting for him to finish- they were already wrapped in the blanket.  
  
Matthew couldn’t meet her eyes; the tips of his ears were turning red. “It’s mostly our chests-“ he looked steadfastly away from Megan. “Our chests we have to keep warm. If you think we should, that is, just our shirts, I- we have a blanket, I wouldn’t have to see anything. That is, I-“ he met her eyes earnestly, “I wouldn’t look.”  
  
Megan didn’t laugh, though he was adorable. She cocked her head thoughtfully, then nodded. Matthew loosened his arms around her, she pulled back, and they stood up. Megan held the blanket while he pulled off his polo and his undershirt and hung them in the tree. Then he took the blanket and turned his back so she could undress as well. After hanging her blouse over a branch, she turned to find him lying on the ground with his eyes squinched shut, his arms open for her, waiting to wrap the blanket tight around both of them. Megan couldn’t help but smile. He had promised not to look, she had not. Her gaze swept across his chest, and she realized that in all the years she’d known the man in front of her, she’d never once seen him without his shirt on. Not that he had anything to hide. He wasn’t a bodybuilder, but he was well muscled and athletic looking. A gust of wind broke through and made them both shiver, cutting off her train of thought. Megan crawled down beside him, slipping her arms around behind his back to pull herself in closer. He folded his arms around her, cocooning them both in the blanket.  
  
It was warmer. Matthew held Megan pressed so tightly to his chest he could feel the lacy patterns of her bra. His right arm kept her pressed against him, his left rubbed circles over the soft skin of her back and side, trying to keep her warm. Her arms were wrapped around him, too, her left hanging around his neck while her right stroked up and down his back, occasionally along his side and across his abs and pectorals-vigorous at first, her movements had become more languid as their shivering slowed. Her head rested against his left shoulder, he could feel her warm breath as it danced along his neck, and smell her perfume more strongly than before. Megan always smelled good. She started to laugh, and he could feel it starting in her diaphragm, spreading through her, before landing as breath on his neck.  
  
“You don’t have to keep your eyes closed, silly.” Megan punctuated her remark by squeezing him gently. He opened his eyes to find her emerald eyes watching him in amusement. “I appreciate the chivalrous gesture, but there’s nothing to see at the moment. We’re wrapped in a blanket, and anyway, I’m wearing a bra.”  
  
“I know. Lace.” Matthew snapped his mouth shut; that was the last thing he’d meant to say. “That is, not that I looked, or anything. Just, I can feel it.” He ran his left hand over the straps on her back to demonstrate, then stopped as he realized what he was doing. He swallowed, and quickly moved his hand away.  
  
Megan didn’t seem to notice as he blushed and looked away, she was concerned for a different reason. “It’s not itching you, is it? I can take it off if you’re uncomfortable.” Her hand slid over his shoulder and down his pectorals to what he realized must be the clasp, nestled between her breasts. She pulled back from him to fiddle with it.  
  
“Oh! No, it’s fine. Forget I mentioned it, please.” There went his left hand again, it moved to stop her hand on the clasp, then froze as his brain caught up. Their motions had pulled the blanket free, it fell behind her shoulders, and as his eyes unwittingly followed his hand he saw everything, the floral pattern of her blue lace bra, the freckle that decorated the swell of her left breast, and his own hand pressed against her cleavage, holding closed the clasp she’d just opened. He could feel her heartbeat through his fingers, his own pounding in his ears.  
  
Megan gazed down at her chest, then up at Matthew. He met her gaze, his clear blue eyes smoky grey and dilated. She had waited for his touch for so long, but it was clear he was uncomfortable. “Oops,” she managed to mumble, and gently took the clasps from his hand, clicking them back together. His arms were stiff as she worked her way back into them. She curled back against his chest, but he didn’t relax until she shivered. His arms tightened around her, he pulled the blanket back into position, and resumed rubbing her back.  
  
Matthew mentally cursed himself for acting like an idiot. True, canoodling under a tree in a torrential rainstorm hadn’t been what he’d had in mind when he’d followed Megan out of the lodge with a blanket, but he needed to pull it together and get her through this situation without letting her catch hypothermia- and preferably without any more goggling or fondling of her chest. Time to stop acting like a gawky teenage boy and be a man; he needed to diffuse the situation. He opened his mouth to apologize, but what came out instead was, “So, blue?” Where had that come from? If he could have kicked himself without disturbing her, he would have.  
  
“It’s your favorite color, right?”  
  
Megan didn’t like her head from where it was pillowed in his shoulder, but Matthew felt some of the tension seep out of her, and she started stroking his back again. Apparently, saying something dumb had been the right move. “You always were observant.”  
  
He felt her smile against his chest. “Observant enough to know that wasn’t how you intended to get to second base.”  
  
Matthew relaxed- if Megan was teasing him she’d probably already forgiven his complete lack of manners. Warm again, he slowed his hands to match her pace, stroking gently up and down her back. “Certainly not.” He echoed her teasing tone.  
  
“How did you intend it?” She asked curiously, shifting slightly in his arms. Her hair fell across his neck.  
  
“Hmm?” Matthew was making sure Megan resettled comfortably, and not thinking at all about hidden freckles.  
  
“How did you intend to get to second base?” she asked again. “Was there some kind of plan?”  
  
Matthew stroked her hair back from where it had fallen. “No plan.” He chuckled. Megan always was curious. “More of an idea, really, that when the time was right, we’d get there. You’d know, and I’d know, and-“  
  
Megan cut off his rambling about organic chemistry by pulling away; shifting so she could look him in eyes. “Did you mean that?”  
  
Her green eyes bored into his, like they were trying to see through to his soul. That look always got under his skin. “Well yeah, I don’t think physical affection should be rushed, or forced-“  
  
She rested a finger across his lips for silence, and looked at him with those big, serious eyes. Matthew knew that whatever she was about to say would be terribly important to her. “I meant the part,” she whispered, “about your idea including me.”  
  
Matthew’s mind went racing back over the things he’d said, looking for what she meant; he didn’t have a clear memory of anything that had come out of his mouth since he’d pointed out her bra was blue lace- and this was not the time to start thinking about that freckle. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate, and opened them to find Megan backing away, her eyes the deep jade shade of green they turned when she cried. He’d taken too long to answer. She left the blanket’s and his embrace and headed for her shirt. He scrambled to his feet, and snatched her blouse from the tree before she could. “What do you think you’re doing?”  
  
Megan wouldn’t look at him. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m going back to the lodge, where there’s food and a fire and dry clothes.”  
  
“You wouldn’t make it halfway up that hill, you’ll slip and break your ankle, come back covered in mud, completely drenched again, and end up catching your death of pneumonia!”  
  
“Watch me!” She made a grab for her shirt, and he raised it over his head out of her reach.  
  
Matthew didn’t fully notice that he was channeling his grandmother, or that the Megan fuming at him was only half dressed while he played keep away with her clothes. He only knew that she was upset over something she thought he’d said, and she might not forgive him this time. She spun around and headed for his shirt instead. “What did I say?” Megan stopped, her back still toward him, and some the fight went out of her shoulders. “I’ll give you back your shirt, and I’ll get you back to the lodge, just tell me what I said.”  
  
He expected the tears when she turned, but they still cut right through him. He stepped forward, and handed her the blouse. He didn’t know what else to do. He never was much use when she cried. She took a deep breath, and looked up at him with those jade green eyes. “You said, well, you said we’d know. That you would know,” She reached out and pointed to his heart, “and that I would know.” She pointed to her own. “And I thought,” she sniffled, “I thought for a moment, that I was the girl…” She trailed off.  
  
“That you were the girl in my plans.” Megan nodded, and turned away. Matthew understood, but what good was understanding if she was still leaving? She had her shirt on, and was pushing through the branches. Stubborn woman! “Wait!” He grabbed an arm to stop her, spinning her back to face him. She put her hands on his chest, ready to shove him away. “Ah hell, Megan!” He lifted her chin to make her look him in the eyes. “You’re the girl in all my plans!” Matthew meant it as a yell, but it came out as a whisper.  
  
Megan stopped fighting. Matthew’s eyes were smoky blue again, and he was staring at her like she was the last star in the galaxy, every bit as intensely as she’d always wanted him to. Megan slid her arms up around his neck to keep her balance so she wouldn’t have to look away. “Can you really mean that?” She breathed.  
  
“You’re the only girl I ever think about.”  
  
“Then what are we waiting for?” She murmured. Megan leaned into him, tilted her chin, and closed her eyes. She waited, lips parted, hardly daring to breathe. Matthew pulled away. Her eyes flew open. He swung her into his arms, and she gasped, clinging more tightly to his neck.  
  
“We’re waiting,” he said gently, “for you to get back under the blanket like a sensible person, you’re shivering again.” He carried her farther back under the tree, and then gently set her back on her feet. He resituated the blanket from the pile they had left it in, and settled into it, opening his arms to her. Megan hesitated. Her boldness only came in spurts; shyness was edging back into control. Matthew sat up and reached out a hand. She took it, and he gently pulled her to him. “Relax,” he whispered when he had her in his lap. “I only want you to be warm. We don’t have to rush into anything.” He gently kissed her forehead, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Matthew reached for the blanket corner to wrap her up tight.  
  
“Wait.” Megan stopped him, grabbing his wrist. “I’m wearing wet clothes; I’ll only make you colder.” He hesitated, then nodded. “Close your eyes.” She instructed. Ever the gentleman, he complied. A moment later, she came back. Easing into his arms, she guided him into a reclining position, and he settled the blanket around them both. “There, just as we were.”  
  
Tenderly, Matthew stroked Megan’s back. “Are we?”  
  
Megan tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “No.”  
  
“I’m glad.” He raised his hand to her cheek, gently wiping away the last remnants of any tears. Finally, leaning forward, he kissed her.


End file.
